


As You Wish

by starsniper



Category: Gotham (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsniper/pseuds/starsniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you were to tell Oswald Cobblepot that he would be spending his Sunday afternoon in a strange man's apartment, wearing said strange man's clothes, and then partnering with him to murder a lackey of his most hated adversary, the former crime king of Gotham probably would have laughed right in your face before he shot it. Takes place right after the events in 2x09.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As You Wish

"You've got some blood on your cheek."

Blue eyes met brown, the only pair of eyes he's seen for weeks now. For perhaps the 20th time since this whole ordeal started, Edward Nygma has caught him off guard.

If you were to tell Oswald Cobblepot that he would be spending his Sunday afternoon in a strange man's apartment, wearing said strange man's clothes, and then partnering with him to murder a lackey of his most hated adversary, the former crime king of Gotham probably would have laughed right in your face before he shot it.

But here he was, with not even a pair of underwear to his name, sitting on the floor with someone he had once deemed an annoying riddle loving fellow not worth his time. And now they had just killed a man together. A man Ed had brought to him as a present.

_Do you believe in fate?_

Last night, when Ed had asked him that question, Oswald had thought him foolish and naive. He had always been the type to believe a man made his own destiny, and that fate had nothing to do anything.

But now? Oswald didn't know what to believe anymore. He owed his life to Ed. The bespectacled man had found him at his lowest, and dressed not only his physical wounds, but the emotional ones as well. He had spoken to him in a way only a kindred spirit could, even though Oswald thought Ed was too childishly excited by the idea of death. If he were honest with himself though, while Ed's attitude was generally annoying and strange, it also had a charm to it that Oswald couldn't ignore.

Oswald also couldn't ignore the hand that was now reaching towards his face. On instinct, he pulls away. Ed laughs quietly.

"Don't worry, I don't bite," he says with an enigmatic smile. Once again, his hand moves towards Oswald's face, their eyes locked, and this time Oswald lets the other man touch him.

Ed's fingers are surprisingly soft. They remind him a little of his mother's. She used to caress his face when he was lonely or upset, just like this. But Ed's hands are much bigger than his mother's, and firmer too. Their presence evokes an entirely different feeling from what his mother's small and feminine hands had.

"There, that's better," Ed says when he's finished wiping the blood off. Both men know that Ed's hand is lingering on Oswald's cheek longer than necessary, but neither dares to try move to pull apart.

Oswald can't tell what's going on behind Ed's eyes, and in the daylight, he also sees their intensity for the first time. Oswald thinks that if he weren't already sitting down, his knees would buckle underneath that gaze.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity passes between them, Ed breaks their eye contact and coughs quietly.

"You should get some rest," he says. "Don't worry about the body, I can clean it up."

Oswald nods his agreement, but when he moves to stand up, he finds that his legs are about as useful as a jellyfish washed on a beach. Perhaps the thrill of the murder had taken more strength out of him than he originally thought.

When he makes his third unsuccessful attempt to get up, Ed moves quickly to support him. Oswald bats away his hands, insisting that he's fine and he doesn't need Ed's help to move a total of 15 feet to the bed. Ed purses his lips when Oswald falls.

"I know you don't _need_ my help Mr. Penguin, but I _want_ to give it," he says holding out his hand. "Please. I insist."

Oswald stares angrily at the hand stretched out to him, as if it were mocking him. He then looks up when an idea strikes him and smirks at Ed.

**"Carry me."**

The command clearly catches Ed off guard, and Oswald smiles at the man's floundering expressions. He looks conflicted, confused, and intrigued all at once. Oswald is pleased that he's managed to get a new face out of the enigmatic man. His glee is short lived, however, when Ed sighs and bends over to place his arms oh so gently around Oswald's delicate frame.

"Very well. As you wish." is all he says before Oswald is lifted from the floor.

Ed's chest is much broader than it looks. It explains a lot about how he's able to easily move bodies around. Oswald can't remember the last time he was this close to another human being. Ed is warm and comforting and strong. Oswald is almost disappointed when Ed finally lays him down on the bed.

"Ah, we'll need to get rid of this shirt," Ed says, noting the blood stains that have gotten all over the front. He moves to undo the buttons but Oswald slaps his hands away.

"I can do it myself, thank you!" Oswald says, attempting to sound affronted, but his voice comes out much too high. He's not sure why the idea of Ed stripping him makes him feel so embarrassed. He practically tosses the shirt at Ed when he finally gets out of it. For some reason, he pulls the covers over himself as well. Ed only smiles at him before he moves back to the task at hand.

Although he's seen many bodies disposed of, and even gotten rid of a few of his own, Oswald is completely mesmerized when he watches Ed work. The man has almost an artistic touch as he hacks poor Mr. Leonard up into manageable pieces before delicately wrapping each body part and placing them in an old suitcase. When he moves with the suitcase towards the door, Oswald sits up suddenly.

"You're leaving?!" He pretends not to hear the slight panic in his voice, but he knows by the look in Ed's eyes that the other man had.

"Well, we can't leave Mr. Leonard to rot in here. It would leave a terrible smell you know, " Ed says in a manner of fact tone. "Besides, you'll need new bandages and medicine. And some new pajamas obviously. It really is quite fortunate that you and I are close to the same size."

Ed is spoiling him. And yet, Oswald is realizing that he doesn't mind at all. When was the last time someone besides his mother had taken care of him? When was the last time he trusted someone to do so? He can't recall.

But why trust Edward Nygma? Oswald doesn't have an answer for that either. The forensic scientist is so different than what he's used to dealing with, their interactions so completely out of his depth that Oswald isn't quite sure if this entire experience is a dream and he's really lying dead in trailer within the woods.

It is when he hears Ed humming the song his mother used to sing to him that Oswald decides he doesn't care why or how Ed came into his life. All that matters now is that he's alive, and feels, for the first time in a long time, truly safe.

"Ed?" he asks when the man is at the door getting ready to put his coat on.

"Yes, Mr. Penguin?"

"Bring me a new toothbrush, if you would, please. Some mouthwash as well."

Ed smiles. "As you wish, Mr. Penguin," the forensic scientist replies.

"Oswald," he says before he can stop himself. Ed pauses at the doorway, as if unsure how to respond. After a while, he pivots around and Oswald finds himself once again paralyzed under his gaze.

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Ed asks, tentatively. Oswald isn't sure what to do either, but he supposes he might as well own up to the fact that maybe, just _maybe_ , he was beginning to grow fond of his new caretaker.

"Oswald. When...when it's just us, call me Oswald," he replies as firmly as he can manage.

Ed is grinning from ear to ear now. "As you wish, _Oswald._ "

The emphasis on his name almost makes his heart stop. Oswald quickly rolls over and basically slams his head onto the pillow before yanking the covers above his head. He's not sure why his heart is beating so fast. And he knows, he _knows_ that Ed has some stupid grin plastered on his face, even if he can't see it.

Eventually, he hears the other man turn around and put on his coat before unlocking the door. The last thing Oswald hears before the door clicks shut is the other man's tenor voice as he begins to sing.

"But nothing will warm me more...than my, my mother's love..."

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from my tumblr seiya-starsniper. I've been playing around with doing another chapter, for the bit that leads up to what just occurred in 2x10, but we'll see how that goes.


End file.
